Before the Beginning
by Lu82
Summary: Pre-Muse. Young BellDom. What if the real very first meeting between Matt and Dom was another one?
1. Chapter 1

Authors: Lilla Wright and hyper_bliss (me, Lu)

Pairing: young, very young BellDom

Genre: friendship, fluff, introspection

Setting: North Spain, Summer 1986

Rating: g/u

Feedback: it would make us immensely happy

Disclaimer: Matt and Dom don't belong to us. All this stuff never happened but it would be so nice if it had!

Summary: What if the real very first meeting between Matt and Dom was another one?

I.

Matthew hated summer.

He hated the unmotivated happiness that that season always brought along, with its smash, made of hubble-bubble and coarse laughter.

He hated that suffocating heat that the air was permeated with, as it forced him to undress a little more, which is something that made him feel awkward.

At the same time, he hated the shining rays of sun that during that season were more aggressive, that's why he was forced to wear a baseball cap and a T-shirt, in order to protect his head and the oh-so-delicate skin of his body that was so petite, thin and fragile that it seemed that it could break at any time.

Maybe it was because of these things that the other children stared at him puzzled, as they played on their own near the coast, not very far from Matt but fully intentioned not to involve him in their playing.

He was way too strange for their tastes and the funny blue swimsuit with white swans that he wore under the white T-shirt didn't help increase Matthew's popularity.

Well, his mother had definitely not a good taste in clothing, at least not concerning her son's clothing.

But Matthew didn't care, he didn't even know what popularity was.

After all, Matthew was only eight years old.

He was sitting on the sand, near the coast, and sometimes he looked back at his beach umbrella, a few rows behind.

His mom was busy reading a book about astrology and esotericism, two subjects that she was obsessed with, and his dad was writing something on a wrinkled notebook, where sometimes some folded papers popped out.

He surely was working on a song.

Matthew loved watching his dad as he worked, even more if they were home, and George could even play the songs that he had created.

Matthew's elder brother was the only one missing, he wasn't under the beach umbrella, but knowing him very well, Matthew was sure that his brother was busy on a beach-volley match, or playing ping-pong or beach soccer or every other available sport activity.

His brother was brilliant in every sport; that's why he was often surrounded by tons of admiring little girls who were crazy for him.

Matthew wasn't made for sport activities. The kid cared much more about the activities that involved the spirit, such as music.

As a matter of fact, Matthew loved playing music, that's why he missed his piano and his little electric guitar that he had left at home, in Cambridge.

His parents had prevented him from bringing his guitar with him during their holiday, but they had allowed his brother to bring with him his beloved soccer ball.

Not only did Matthew hate summer, he thought that it was extremely unfair to him.

Besides, the little boy hated going on holiday, or rather, he hated being on holiday in that place.

Yeah, because he was sure that in that beach of North Spain he would have the chance to meet some children around there, with language, traditions and style of life that were different from his own.

Matthew adored new things; to know new stuff to him was something very stimulating.

Instead, he was surrounded only by other English children, because that Spanish beach was famous for being the main destination for the holidays of tons of English families who were looking for holiday resorts warmer and more comfortable than the ones that their country offered to them.

Matthew snorted, as he passed a hand on the wet sand, in order to level it off. As soon as he managed to obtain a smooth surface, as smooth as a sheet of paper, he began to trace the contours with his fingers, drawing something that was becoming more and more detailed and clear.

It was a piano and an electric guitar.

For the record, they were _his _piano and _his_ electric guitar, and the kid knew those two instruments so well that he could easily reproduce them with a wealth of details: the guitar had all the six strings and the frets to create chords or simple notes, and on the keyboard of the piano he had piled up little mounds of wet sand, here and there, at regular spaces, in order to reproduce the black keys.

Matthew touched first the guitar, and then the piano, closing his eyes and moving with skill both of his hands and head, to keep the rhythm.

He wasn't just simply pretending to play music for fun, he was actually doing that for real and in his mind he could even hear the music that he was creating.

The children nearby were looking at him in deep confusion and boredom, making witty remarks and laughing of him, taking a further mental note to consider the newly-arrived little boy a screwball, a nerd, a silly kid who they should better keep far from.

But, truth must be told, not far from there, safe under his own beach umbrella, there was another little boy who was observing the newly-arrived kid.

(End I)

lol, who ever could be the little boy under his beach umbrella? XD

We hope you'll like it so far, see you soon with part two… totally focused this _mysterious_ little boy ;)


	2. Chapter 2

II.

Dominic loved summer with all his tiny being.

He loved the sun and its warm rays that caressed his skin, finally free from all those unwieldy wool and winter jackets.

He loved seeing the people as they wandered around the towns. He loved seeing the towns full of pastel colours and floral patterns worn by the people, who, just like Dominic, loved the season and the beauty that it enclosed.

He loved wearing bright coloured T-shirts, matched with his worn-out jeans. His favourite T-shirt was yellow, with a picture of Spiderman in the middle.

He loved spending the summer days with his friends, in the main park of his town, playing with the ball-especially playing football.

The other kids often told him that he wasn't good at that game, but Dominic didn't care, he just wanted to have fun.

Another one of his passions, probably the biggest one and surely a source of endless fun, was jealously kept inside the garage of his house, in Stockport.

Dominic loved music more than anything else.

During the cold winter nights, he and his father sat on the carpet, in the living room, near the fireplace, listening to old records.

Dominic filled his father with questions about who those musicians were, and the meaning of the songs that they listened to and Bill had always fun answering to his beloved son as he stared at the adult with happiness sparkling in his bright eyes.

Unfortunately, now the child was far from all that stuff.

He and his family were on holiday in a village of North Spain, they'd been there for some days, for their habitual summer vacation, all together.

Dominic loved the beach; it was full of pleasant memories.

His family had started to go to that place when he was three years old and, maybe thanks to all the pictures that his mother took, he had several flashes where he was the main protagonist, playing with his elder sister on the beach or being rescued by his father from the waves, afraid that the kid was about to drown.

They kept coming back to that place, every summer.

That afternoon, the weather was awesome. His mother and his sister were sunbathing on their sun beds, while his father was with some other vacationers, enjoying an exciting game of cards.

Dominic sat on the sand, under his beach umbrella, with nothing to do but watch the sea, sighing sadly.

His mother was irremovable: no swimming before four o'clock.

He snorted, impotent to that prohibition, and searched for his little friends with his look.

If he couldn't have a bath, he was more than free to play with the other kids along the coast.

No matter how long he searched, he didn't manage to find any of his friends.

With another sigh, utterly resigned, he was about to lie down on his sun bed and try to sleep for a while, but someone caught his attention.

A kid, probably his same age, was sitting near the coast, playing all alone.

Dominic couldn't understand why he was so alone, maybe that baseball cap and white T-shirt didn't make the right impression, but Dominic couldn't say anything about it, since he wore a funny green swimsuit with little fishes.

The thing that impressed Dominic the most was that that kid wasn't looking for anyone to spend his time with, not even the kids that Dominic used to call his friends, who seemed to pop out from nowhere, just and only to make fun of the newly arrived.

Dominic was fascinated by the boy's gestures. That mysterious kid wasn't paying attention to the others. He was drawing something on the sand, and then Dominic saw him move his hands on the wet sand, as he waved his head, keeping the rhythm of a sound that only that child seemed to hear.

That kid had the music in his soul and the little Dominic smiled cheerfully, eager to know that oh-so-special child.

Matthew stared one last time at his 'musical instrument' on the coast, wishing that there weren't any big and violent wave to sweep away his little works of art.

He got up and backed off, sitting on the dry sand.

He took the bucket that he had with him, along with the matched spade and shapes.

His mother had bought them for him, that morning, in order to make her son forget about his obsession with his guitar for some days.

Besides, this way she could exhort him to do something recreational, typical of all the kids of his same age.

Matthew decided that he was time to make his mother happy.

After all, he had already seen other kids building sand castles; it was a matter of filling the bucket with sand and then turning it upside down, very abruptly.

There wasn't anything difficult or complicated to it.

He grabbed the spade, sinking it in the sand around; he filled the bucket with it, but when he turned it upside down he just saw a shapeless mound of sand, blown away by the wind.

The children nearby, who had observed the whole scene, laughed at him.

Matthew didn't lose his nerve; he changed zones, repeated the same previous actions and had the same, upsetting result and that happened even after other two attempts.

"You're so clumsy!" a little girl screamed, laughing scornfully.

"You're nut, so you can do only nut things!" the little boy close to her yelled at Matthew.

"Silly boy, silly boy, silly boy!" all the children sang-song, pointing at him and laughing.

Matthew hunched his shoulders and clenched his fists; closing his eyes.

He wanted to burst out crying, but he didn't want to give those evil children such satisfaction.

Once he calmed down, without shedding a single tear, he started to gather all his stuff, in order to go back to his beach umbrella, safe and sound, when he felt a hand on his left shoulder.

(End II)

Truth must be said: children can even be that evil sometimes! ;P

We hope you'll still like it, things will become more interesting and damn cuter in next part, keep following us! ;)


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